


This Long Game Is Not For Outsiders

by TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel



Series: Not Quite Fraternisation (The Longest Cold War) [1]
Category: Avengers movie- fandom, Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: Angels, Demons, Fallen Angels, Gen, Good Omens AU, Good Omens fusion, Heaven vs Hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-21
Updated: 2013-07-21
Packaged: 2017-12-20 21:52:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/892302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel/pseuds/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Her name isn’t really Darcy, of course: her true name is something much older and a damn lot more powerful. </i>
</p><p>Norse gods weren't the only supernatural beings in New Mexico when Thor was there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Long Game Is Not For Outsiders

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not really sure where this came from? But I was looking at [blue's Good Omens fanart](http://hoursago.tumblr.com/tagged/good-omens), and then I got an image of Darcy Lewis playing Crowley's role (okay, mostly the eyes behind the sunglasses, and a smile), and I had to write a Good Omens AU.

**This Long Game Is Not For Outsiders**

Darcy Lewis likes her current body. It’s young and attractive, perfect for tempting, even if she thinks they went a bit overboard in the chest area. It’s flexible, too, which is perfect for those rare occasions when Darcy gives into the urge to find a nice sunny spot and curl up for a while, basking in the heat.

Her name isn’t really Darcy, of course: her true name is something much older and a damn lot more powerful. But she likes the way ‘Darcy’ sounds in her mouth, they way it can sound bright and bubbly, until she emphasises the sibilant syllable in the middle to turn it into something else altogether.

Right now, Darcy Lewis is working as an intern for a crazy-ass scientist who, unbeknownst not only to everyone else but to the scientist herself, has inadvertently tapped into the Aesir’s major method of travel.

Darcy thinks it’s hilarious. She thinks it’s even more hilarious when a junior Aesir drops from the sky and they hit him with Jane’s car.

At a glance, Darcy can see that the godling has been stripped of his powers, but even if he were all mojo-ed up the idea of him working out what she is would still be pretty unlikely. The Aesir think themselves pretty hot shit, and ancient by most standards, but they forget that there are older beings still, who mostly don’t concern themselves with the ways of the world.

Darcy’s one of the few exceptions. She’s been concerning herself with the ways of the world practically since Creation.

Baby God comes storming up to her yelling furiously, though, looking ready to smash heads, and Darcy is not putting up with that shit. A jolt from her taser (a girl’s best friend!) and he goes down like a stack of bricks.

“Darcy!” says Jane, appalled, which is pretty rich from the woman ho hit him with her car.

“What? He was freaking me out!” Darcy protests, pretending to be as frightened and unnerved as any ordinary human would be. It’s not hard; she’s been playing at being a normal human since the day her boss told her she was being assigned to Earth. Permanently. (In retrospect, maybe some of her jokes had been kind of overly disrespectful, but you know. Learning experience. Besides, Darcy loves Earth, as it turns out. Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven, maybe, but if you’re not the one doing the reigning then Earth is _way_ more fun than either of them.)

“I’m surprised you could even see him, with those sunglasses,” Erik says, as they all stare at the unconscious Aesir.

Darcy smiles, swift and secret. No one notices.

* * *

When the Men in Black turn up to confiscate Jane’s stuff, Darcy almost dies laughing when she sees who’s leading the pack. She has to bolt for her bedroom and muffle the laughter into a pillow.

When she returns, face carefully straight, Jane is following the various agents around like a small localised hurricane, furious and vocal. Darcy waits until Secret Agent Man is standing by himself next to one of the vans, and saunters over.

“So,” she drawls, eyeing her holy counterpart’s newest body up and down, “how’s Lola?”

Coulson’s eyes narrow, the faintest bit suspicious.

“She’s fine. Why?”

“I just think that, you know, given our respective positions, I should probably be the one with the hot sports car.”

“It’s a car,” Coulson says dryly, “not a sin.”

Darcy smiles, cherry-red and slow, and her sunglasses slip down her nose. Her eyes glint golden in the sunlight.

“Baby, you are _so_ wrong.”

Coulson rolls his eyes, and pastes on his Imperturbable Face as Jane stalks over angrily. Likewise, Darcy pushes her sunglasses back into place, and slides easily into her usual persona.

* * *

An Asgardian invasion is a different freaking thing altogether, though. As the Destroyer – sent by Asgard’s new king himself – threatens to level the town, Darcy wonders if she should revel herself for what she is and put a stop to this. Demons aren’t really supposed to be the ‘defending the realm’ types, but Earth is _hers_ , thanks. Even Hell doesn’t look kindly on outsiders trying to claim Earth; Heaven and Hell have been playing their game for far too long and for keeps to let some upstart outsider swan in and steal the planet under their nose.

Coulson is still wearing his usual shape, however. Darcy’s eyes meet his, and there is silent agreement there: if it comes to it, they will become temporary allies, for just long enough to defeat their common enemy. It’ll mean a lot of paperwork, but Darcy can deal with that if she has to. Usually she just sets all her paperwork on fire and is too much of a pain in the butt for anyone to try and make her follow proper procedure (bitch, please, she’s the fucking _Serpent,_ the only person who can make her do anything is the angry dude who sent her down here in the first place, who is officially the only bigger pain in the ass than she is) but something like joining forces with the enemy would mean shit getting real where paperwork is concerned. Like, potential court-martial territory.

Fortunately, Thor’s heroic sacrifice is enough to grant him his magical hammer back (and WTF, everyone else was only in danger because of Thor’s presence in the first place, how does that work?) and after totalling the Destroyer and kissing Jane he vanishes off via his transcendent magical bridge to deal with his bughouse-crazy brother.

World saved! Yay. 

Darcy decides she needs a drink, and a certain kind of company to go with it.

* * *

She finds Coulson in the local bar later, with a shot of cheap whiskey that has been miraculously transmogrified into something much more expensive. Sometimes Darcy wonders if Coulson was sent down to Earth for the same reason she was – i.e., not being as good an angel (in Darcy’s case, demon) as he’s supposed to be, and ignoring rules he doesn’t like.

“I’d better get my iPod back,” is her opening statement. “Seriously, I’d just downloaded a bunch of songs.”

“Anything good?” is Coulson’s reply. Darcy scowls at him.

“Dude, no. Do not steal my songs, you asshole.”

Coulson just cracks a slight, tired grin, and Darcy settles herself on the bar stool next to his.

“This is going to come back again and bite us on the butt, isn’t it,” she says after a moment. It’s not really a question.

“Probably,” Coulson agrees. “It seems likely that more extraterrestrial incursions will follow.” The bartender gives him a weird look. Coulson gives him a bland one. Bartender looks away first. Coulson might _look_ like a boring paper-pusher, but that doesn’t mean that deep down, people can’t sense that somewhere, he still has a flaming sword he can whip out when he needs to. Most people just ignore that feeling, because people are morons.

“Balls,” says Darcy, and orders the closest thing to a cocktail this one-bar town has.

Coulson silently toasts her with his shot glass, and drinks.

“Last time there was a major incursion, the Jotun flattened my favourite tavern,” Darcy says sadly.

“That’s really what you took away from that whole experience?” Coulson wonders.

“Um, I seem to remember _someone_ getting all smitey about the same time as it got demolished, so shut up, Mr Judgemental,” Darcy retorts.

They drink in silence for a while.

“So,” Darcy says finally. “With all this stuff probably about to go down, you’re probably going to need me close to more easily thwart my demonly wiles, right?”

Coulson eyes her over his glass. Darcy waits patiently. She can tell he’s thinking.

“Well, we are hiring Dr Foster,” Coulson says at last. “It only makes sense to hire her assistant as well. Particularly since, as you said, it will be easier to monitor your nefarious activities up close.” He gives a tiny shrug. “And if you just happen to be on hand if something goes down, well, that’s a funny coincidence.”

Darcy smiles. It’s a long game Heaven and Hell are playing, but sometimes, she thinks she and Coulson play it better than anyone.


End file.
